It's been some time since she's been to visit Itward, in his realm. She misses her skeletal friend when he's not around. Most think her very strange, she has few friends in her own realm. So she visits Ithersta, and Senersedee in order to see her friends there.
There's another friend that she hasn't seen in years, here in Senersedee. She thinks of them from time to time. How comforting they were when she had lost her parents. Before she had been sent away.
The thing about Death, once you have crossed their path once, is that they are always there. Beyond space and time, beyond everything, they wait, they watch, and their patience is - usually - endless.
Still, it's nice to be sought out by those who met them as children, long before they fully grasp the fear of ending that age brings. They always appear as a friend to young, frightened souls like those...and their reunions, however bittersweet, are just a little warmer than the average rendezvous.
So when Fran chooses to look for them, there they are - sitting back at the base of a tree, smile inviting as an open grave.
"There you are. Almost seven years now." She moves from the tree where she was resting to sit next to them, taking their hand and squeezing it in greeting. She doesn't fear their touch. For her, would it be so different than traveling between realms? She may not be able to visit Ithersta again, but Itward would be.
And so would Der Tod. Two friends for her, here.
"I've missed seeing you so often." She would see them carrying off some of the poor children at the asylum, telling her not to be afraid, they were going somewhere to be free of it all. It always made her feel better.
Gladly, they take the hand - even through their glove, their grasp is cold as a morgue, all the warmth coming from their fond, angular grin. She never did fear them. The little ones who have been through the most never seem to.
Not her time just yet, though, and they are content to just converse for now.
"I never left you," they purr, voice lightly accented. "Only waited until you wanted to come find me again. You have grown, mein Mädchen."
"I imagine it felt like mere moments to you. What is seven years, when one is eternal?" She toys with their fingers, not minding their cool touch. No worse than Itward's boney grasp.
"I've been thinking of you, recently. Not because I'm ready to go with you, but just in general. How I haven't visited the fourth realm in so long, and that I ought to look for you, while I'm here."
Patiently, they let her play with their fingers, tug at their gloves, inspect their rings. When she was little, she liked their rings, they recall. The hairwork designs trapped under the glass, memento mori laid into little flowers and twists.
"I am glad of the visit. And glad to have been thought of fondly. You've been through quite a lot in these years, haven't you?"
"Quite a lot," she says quietly, sounding a little sad. So much has happened on her adventures. A lot of good, yes, but a lot of frightening things, too. But Der Tod had always been there for her, since she was a child. And for that she is grateful.
"Your work takes you all over, I'm sure. But you were always there when I called."
"More than your share. But that always seems to be with the people who think of me as a friend."
Shifting their legs under them, they extend their arm out and to the side, inviting Fran to scoot closer, to lean in. Death's embrace, quite literally.
And Fran leans against them, wrapping her arms around their waist and resting her head against their chest. It makes the rough bark of the tree scrape against her arm, but she doesn't mind. She's comfortable here.
She can remember that night so clearly. A dark figure escaping out the window, and another taking its place beside her.
And who are you, now?
I'm a friend.
They'd been so reassuring, staying with her until the police came.
"Perhaps I need you again now, in a way. I'm very lonely, you see. All my friends are here, or in Ithersta. Save Mister Midnight, of course."
They're cold, like laying across a headstone - but it's soothing, the way they wrap their arm over Fran's shoulders, gently holding her there.
They, too, remember that night well. Two confused and terrified parents, ushered away...and a wide-eyed little girl, covered in blood, looking up at them with bleary eyes. They had smiled, reassured - and when asked to stay, they did, just for a short time, crouched there with her and stroking her hair.
"People tend to find me odd. Or think I'm a witch, or something silly like that. Just because I have a black cat and live alone in a spooky old house. And besides, no one believes the stories I tell. I suppose there's no real reason they should believe me. It all sounds rather fantastical, doesn't it?"
"You have that in common with many who have taken the time to speak with me."
Their tone is gentle, reassuring, the breeze over a memorial garden. "But that doesn't mean they're right. So much of life sounds like fantasy. Everyone has stories that they think no one will believe."
Fran presses her thumb against the dimple of his chin and smiles, stroking his cheek. "But you've always been gentle with me. So kind. None of my friends are human, but I don't think I mind that."
She sighs and hugs them tighter. "Will you come visit me more often? I miss you. I'll call for you more again."
Her hand is warm against their chilly skin - in spite of themselves, they lean into the touch a little, the sensation novel. Few are willing to touch them, and even those who are...well, they don't stay warm for long, do they?
"So long as you are happy, Schatzi."
The hug and the plea actually make them blink - not precisely a common plea from someone who has grown. "...If you like. If you need me, I will come. You know I will."
"I know it's strange of me. Wanting you as a friend. But you are my friend, and I do like having you with me.
I miss our conversations. I miss falling asleep listening to your voice." It's almost a pout. Very nearly a sulk, but she manages to pull it together a little. "None of my friends live near me. I'd say it's not fair, but at least I can visit you all."
"Not as strange as you think - just uncommon. There are those who find solace in me, but...I don't talk or show myself to just all of them. Those who meet me as children mostly think I was an imaginary friend. Few know better like you do."
They catch the shift in her tone and they chuckle, the thrum of a crow's wings. Gently, they pull her back so she is looking them in the eyes, catching the full force of one of those peculiar smiles.
"Now, now, Fran. You know all you have to do is call for me, and I will be there. You just haven't called me in a while, and so I have let you live. It isn't that I haven't paid you any attention."
She looks a little scolded, at that. They're right, of course. She's spent more time in Ithersta, is part of the problem. Time passes so oddly there, she can easily spend a year without even noticing.
She'd practically given up on her own world, by now. There's very little, if anything at all for her there.
"I'm being very silly, aren't I? How childish you must think me."
One hand gently moves to her chin, tilting her head so that she cannot look away. The grip is firm - their grip always seems that way, a reminder that they are powerful, inescapable, even in this soft moments - but not painful, and there is caring in their fierce blue eyes.
"I have known many lonely humans like you, but not many ask to see me, after a while. It's nice, to be thought of fondly. You aren't afraid, but you know you're not ready yet. Not a combination I see often at all."
Their touch is cold, but not uncomfortable. Their gaze is piercing, and leaves her breathless. She glances at their mouth for a moment, before looking back up to their eyes again. Curious. Considering.
"No, not quite yet. I don't think. Though sometimes I wonder, what it might be like to spend all my time here. I wouldn't be afraid. Not so long as you were here. And Itward. I should like very much too see Itward again. But then I would miss my friends in Ithersta."
That little glance is caught - they've seen it before. They know what it means. But they let her think it out, let her speak before nodding in understanding, still holding on to her.
"Wondering will happen, mein mädchen. But when it is time, you will know. You will see me when you did not call, and you will know."
"But even then, I wouldn't be afraid. I couldn't be, not if it were you. You'd take me by the hand and you'd lead me off, in your very sweet way. And tell me that I won't hurt anymore. And that will be a comfort."
Said with conviction, with certainty. They can give her that much, when her life has had so little. "I know you would never be afraid. You will come to me knowing what it all means. You call yourself childish, Fran, but you are mature beyond your years already."
"I never could be afraid. Not after what I've seen. You're the least frightening part of my life." She reaches up to cup her hand over their jaw, stroking her thumb over their cheek. To show she isn't afraid to touch them. To have them touch her.
"Tell me where you've been, lately? Where is the loveliest place you've visited, since I've seen you last."
Again, the warmth, and again, they lean into it, purring low in their throat.
She asks the question...and they think for a moment or two before making a decision, shifting a little to indicate they mean to get up. "Why don't we have this conversation somewhere else? If you would like to go somewhere new."
There is a twinkle in their eyes, a spark of something not usually present.
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For Der Tod
There's another friend that she hasn't seen in years, here in Senersedee. She thinks of them from time to time. How comforting they were when she had lost her parents. Before she had been sent away.
She wonders if they're here, too.
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Still, it's nice to be sought out by those who met them as children, long before they fully grasp the fear of ending that age brings. They always appear as a friend to young, frightened souls like those...and their reunions, however bittersweet, are just a little warmer than the average rendezvous.
So when Fran chooses to look for them, there they are - sitting back at the base of a tree, smile inviting as an open grave.
"Guten tag, Fran. It has been a while."
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And so would Der Tod. Two friends for her, here.
"I've missed seeing you so often." She would see them carrying off some of the poor children at the asylum, telling her not to be afraid, they were going somewhere to be free of it all. It always made her feel better.
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Gladly, they take the hand - even through their glove, their grasp is cold as a morgue, all the warmth coming from their fond, angular grin. She never did fear them. The little ones who have been through the most never seem to.
Not her time just yet, though, and they are content to just converse for now.
"I never left you," they purr, voice lightly accented. "Only waited until you wanted to come find me again. You have grown, mein Mädchen."
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"I've been thinking of you, recently. Not because I'm ready to go with you, but just in general. How I haven't visited the fourth realm in so long, and that I ought to look for you, while I'm here."
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Patiently, they let her play with their fingers, tug at their gloves, inspect their rings. When she was little, she liked their rings, they recall. The hairwork designs trapped under the glass, memento mori laid into little flowers and twists.
"I am glad of the visit. And glad to have been thought of fondly. You've been through quite a lot in these years, haven't you?"
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"Your work takes you all over, I'm sure. But you were always there when I called."
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Shifting their legs under them, they extend their arm out and to the side, inviting Fran to scoot closer, to lean in. Death's embrace, quite literally.
"Of course. You needed me."
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She can remember that night so clearly. A dark figure escaping out the window, and another taking its place beside her.
And who are you, now?
I'm a friend.
They'd been so reassuring, staying with her until the police came.
"Perhaps I need you again now, in a way. I'm very lonely, you see. All my friends are here, or in Ithersta. Save Mister Midnight, of course."
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They, too, remember that night well. Two confused and terrified parents, ushered away...and a wide-eyed little girl, covered in blood, looking up at them with bleary eyes. They had smiled, reassured - and when asked to stay, they did, just for a short time, crouched there with her and stroking her hair.
Just like they do now, absently.
"That must be very hard for you."
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Their tone is gentle, reassuring, the breeze over a memorial garden. "But that doesn't mean they're right. So much of life sounds like fantasy. Everyone has stories that they think no one will believe."
A sigh.
"Humans can be so cruel."
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She sighs and hugs them tighter. "Will you come visit me more often? I miss you. I'll call for you more again."
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"So long as you are happy, Schatzi."
The hug and the plea actually make them blink - not precisely a common plea from someone who has grown. "...If you like. If you need me, I will come. You know I will."
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I miss our conversations. I miss falling asleep listening to your voice." It's almost a pout. Very nearly a sulk, but she manages to pull it together a little. "None of my friends live near me. I'd say it's not fair, but at least I can visit you all."
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They catch the shift in her tone and they chuckle, the thrum of a crow's wings. Gently, they pull her back so she is looking them in the eyes, catching the full force of one of those peculiar smiles.
"Now, now, Fran. You know all you have to do is call for me, and I will be there. You just haven't called me in a while, and so I have let you live. It isn't that I haven't paid you any attention."
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She'd practically given up on her own world, by now. There's very little, if anything at all for her there.
"I'm being very silly, aren't I? How childish you must think me."
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One hand gently moves to her chin, tilting her head so that she cannot look away. The grip is firm - their grip always seems that way, a reminder that they are powerful, inescapable, even in this soft moments - but not painful, and there is caring in their fierce blue eyes.
"I have known many lonely humans like you, but not many ask to see me, after a while. It's nice, to be thought of fondly. You aren't afraid, but you know you're not ready yet. Not a combination I see often at all."
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"No, not quite yet. I don't think. Though sometimes I wonder, what it might be like to spend all my time here. I wouldn't be afraid. Not so long as you were here. And Itward. I should like very much too see Itward again. But then I would miss my friends in Ithersta."
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"Wondering will happen, mein mädchen. But when it is time, you will know. You will see me when you did not call, and you will know."
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Said with conviction, with certainty. They can give her that much, when her life has had so little. "I know you would never be afraid. You will come to me knowing what it all means. You call yourself childish, Fran, but you are mature beyond your years already."
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"Tell me where you've been, lately? Where is the loveliest place you've visited, since I've seen you last."
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She asks the question...and they think for a moment or two before making a decision, shifting a little to indicate they mean to get up. "Why don't we have this conversation somewhere else? If you would like to go somewhere new."
There is a twinkle in their eyes, a spark of something not usually present.
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"Where shall we go?"
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